Arrow

Toxin in the air / Put your dukes up

with a line modified from Tolkien


Toxin in the air                              Put your dukes up
Safe loud script                            Mandoline claimed its birthright
My index finger                             My gnostic sufferings
There are other wills                    At work beyond the will of evil
Re-ascendant fascisms :S           Shame’s tutelage
Long bypassed its use                 I am seized with an erection
So pestersome                             I ought to weep
See the arc of the                        Arrow
Loosed overhead                         Tracing a rainbow
Under it every                               Living thing
Belongs to Death’s                       Twilit kingdom
We could feel it                             Moving through the air
And time and space                     Crystal under it
We could grab the                        Orbs of testimony
Holding days                                 Propelled into time
By agony’s                                     Clarifying energy
My sanity sliding                           Out my eye
Cracked out my brain                   A yolk
Every hero must confront            DADDY in the rainbow province of
Death’s desert air                         It is time to rise
To the laundromat                        Into the breach
The script of the tree bark          Colonnades of pollen
Life singing its song                     In registers we do not stop to hear
In agonies we do not bear           To carry who could look
One’s culture in the eye               Bear to applaud the earth singing
Songs of a massacred people     Song of the many other possible songs
We could sing daily                      Rising to meet the
Arrow piercing clearly the            Sphincter in my brain
As a cock does when I                 Arch my spine and think of nothing
But opening                                   Up to the light that is thee my lord

About the author

Jake Byrne is a queer writer whose poems have appeared in PRISM internationalThe Fiddlehead, Lambda Literary’s Poetry SpotlightThe PuritanPlenitude, and Poetry is Dead, among others. His first chapbook, The Tide (Rahila’s Ghost Press, 2017) was shortlisted for the bpNichol Chapbook Award in 2018. He is a settler based in Tkaronto, in the territory subject to the Dish With One Spoon covenant, so-called Toronto, Canada.